The Hills Have Eyes

Day 2

My goal is to qualify for the Boston Marathon.  Today was training for hills.  At the Steamtown Marathon I learned the hard way how important it is to train for all possible terrains.  I also learned an important lesson on being thankful for my abilities, even if they are not as developed as I'd like.

Almost 5 years ago, I remember thinking about "The Wall" that every marathon runner supposedly hits.  At some point during a race, be it due to mental instability, depleted glycogen stores, or muscle strain - a runner hits "The Wall."  This can lead sudden fatigue and loss of energy.

I was 24 miles into my first marathon and had yet to hit "The Wall."  I figured I was too well trained, in too good of shape to have fallen victim to this awful fate.  Twenty four miles into that race, I was proud of myself for avoiding this "rookie" mistake.  Shortly after, I saw "The Wall."  Not felt "The Wall,"  I actually saw it.  A physical wall.  I failed to realize that mile 24 of this race was uphill.  It was a hill, barely 100 feet in total elevation.  But as I rounded the bend and that hill came into view it could have been Everest as far as I was concerned.

I experienced sudden fatigue and loss of energy.  I remember telling myself that if I walked up part of the hill that would be okay, after all I could conserve energy for the end of the race.  I don't know why my legs didn't accept the attempted mental bargain.  But I pushed.  I persevered.  And for the rest of my life I'll never forget the image I saw towards the top of that hill.  Near the top was St. Joseph's Center - which among other things, provides services for disabled children and adults.

Just off to the right of the race course were several patients, some standing and holding the hands of nurses and doctors, some in wheelchairs, one in a hospital bed.  And they were cheering.  Cheering for those of us out there on the course hitting our own walls.  Those of us pushing our bodies to our physical limits.  I remember feeling incredibly small.  Who was I to complain.  I was so damn lucky.  Lucky to have been given the ability to run.  Lucky to have cheerleaders who put things in proper perspective for me.

In the days after the race my quadriceps screamed, my calves ached at every stair step.  I couldn't effectively run for a few weeks.  I learned that I needed to train for hills next time.

But more importantly I learned that the mere ability to achieve a goal is a gift.  A gift I will not squander on a lack of discipline and focus.  My goal is to qualify for the Boston Marathon.

Day 2: 5 miles, 45:00, 9:04 pace - Hills, glorious Hills.